


Secrets

by 796116311389



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Drinking, Drunk Sherlock, Drunk confessions, Ficlet, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 08:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14233314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/pseuds/796116311389
Summary: "He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I'm not. Not his best person."For a tumblr prompt.





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt from a tumblr post by [ theirglassofteaat221b](http://theirglassofteaat221b.tumblr.com/post/171259235002/lestrade-has-to-give-a-somewhat-drunk-sherlock-a).
> 
> "Lestrade has to give a somewhat drunk Sherlock a ride home (he was on a stakeout at a pub, and forgot to stop ordering real drinks after the second shot), and Sherlock spends the entire ride talking about how excited he is to get home and see John again."

Lestrade has experienced Sherlock at his worst, so to see him a bit loose after one drink too many isn't all that alarming. He calmly collects the consulting detective from in front of the pub where a young man is holding him up.

Sherlock is surprised to see him, which Lestrade finds amusing because they just spoke not 20 minutes ago, albeit with the aid of presumably the man whose now gone back inside freed of his charge.

"Lestrade! You came for me! Thank you!" Sherlock slurs slightly, still managing to pronounce Lestrade's name. 

"Are you here to take me home? I think I forgot to not drink. I think I drank. Drunk. Drank." He flops back and forth between the words before leaning all his weight on Lestrade's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Lestrade puts an arm around Sherlock's waist and helps him into the back of an unmarked police car. Sherlock collapses into the seat, lying down with his eyes closed. Lestrade slips into the drivers seat and begins the trip back to Baker Street.

Sherlock stirs in the back and Lestrade suddenly worries of vomit in the back of the car.

"Sherlock. Don't you dare throw up back there. We're about 30 minutes from your flat and a toilet. You can throw up there and John can deal with the mess. I don't need the back of my vehicle smelling ripe for the next month."

Sherlock sits up, his hair a bit of a mess from lying against the leather seats. He catches Lestrade's eye in the rear view mirror. "I would never. Never ever. Not at home either. John would help me though. I don't like throwing up and John knows and he makes me Chamomile tea with honey. Says it makes my stomach better. I agree. John is a very good doctor. Did you know that Lestrade?"

Lestrade doesn't try very hard to suppress his smile. 

Sherlock is speaking quickly like it's a deduction, but his fondness for the doctor is in every word. 

"Yes, Sherlock. I did."

"Good."

It's quiet for a moment while Sherlock's liquor soaked brain ruminates on God knows what.

"You know," Sherlock leans forward in his seat and whispers, "he's my favourite. He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I'm not. Not his best person." Sherlock leans back again and Lestrade is surprised to see that Sherlock looks like he could cry. 

His eyes are red and they seem to shine in the passing street lights.

Lestrade feels the need to reassure Sherlock. Despite what his seargents may say, Sherlock is as human as any other person on the planet and doesn't deserve to be this distraught.

"Hey, Sherlock. Sherlock look at me. You are John's best person. John thinks you're the sun and the stars. I know you know how he looks at you."

Sherlock perks up with Lestrade's words. "You think so? Even though I dont know about the place? The space place?"

"Yeah, I think so." Lestrade answers as he pulls up outside 221B. "Now, hold on. I'm going to get John so he can help me get you upstairs."

Sherlock's head is tipped back and he's already snoring softly.

"I'll take that as an ok."

Lestrade ran up the steps to 221B and upstairs to Sherlock and John's flat. John looks up from the book he's reading in surprise. "Oh, hi Greg. If you're looking for Sherlock he went out about an hour ago."

Lestrade gave a short laugh, "Actually I know where Sherlock is. He's in the back of my car downstairs."

Before Lestrade can give a reason why, John stands in alarm, "Is he okay?"

Lestrade puts his hand up to stop John, "Yes, he's fine. Just a bit sloshed. Keeps going on about you." Lestrade grins big, "Seems to think he's not your favourite person."

John's face goes soft, "Ah. Well let's go get him from the car then."

The two men get downstairs. Sherlock is exactly where Lestrade left him. John opens the door to the back and gently shakes Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock stirs and blinks blearily at John.

"John?"

"Hey you." John reaches forward and begins helping Sherlock out of the car. "Let's get you upstairs and to bed, yeah?"

John pulls Sherlock from the car and Lestrade hovers near by to help if need be. All together the three of them navigate the seventeen steps up to the flat. Once inside Lestrade says his goodbyes and John moves Sherlock to bed after removing his great coat.

Once in the room Sherlock plops down on the edge of the bed and John begins removing Sherlock's shoes and socks. After that he gets Sherlock out of his shirt and trousers and tucks him into bed in just his pants. Then John lays down next to him on top of the duvet.

"What's this I hear about you not being my favourite person?"

Sherlock who had been half asleep through the whole process, suddenly comes awake and very nearly seems sober. "I'm not. You're my favourite person, but I'm not yours. I'll be alone forever." He says the last bit dramatically forlorn.

John gives a small, soft smile, "Darling. Sweetheart. I married you."

Sherlock's brow scrunchs up and he brings his left hand out from under the duvet to look at the wedding ring on his fourth finger.

"Oh, yeah."

John laughs at that, " _'Oh, yeah'_ you numpty."

Sherlock purses his lips and John leans over and gives him a chaste kiss.

Gently caressing Sherlock's cheek, he leans back from the kiss, "And if you think I'm ever going anywhere without you you are sorely mistaken. I will never leave you. I love you."

Sherlock smiles at the sentiment and looks into John's eyes, "Just the two of us against the world?"

"Always."

"I love you John."

"I know. Why don't you get some sleep and in the morning I'll make us a proper fry up for the spectacular headache I'm sure you're going to have, hm?"

"That sounds nice." Sherlock mumbles already falling asleep again.

John gets up from the bed, leans over to place a kiss on Sherlock's forehead, before straightening up and flicking off the bedside lamp. He heads to the door and as he turns to leave and shut the door he hears Sherlock softly mumble, "John. You're my husband."

John answers softly, "Yes, love, I'm your husband."

He shuts the door with a soft click.


End file.
